Of Albatrosses
by Cairnsy
Summary: Childman, Hartia and an albatross called Krylancelo (Orphen).


_Author's notes:_ First _Orphen _fic. The relationship between Childman and Hartia inexplicitly fascinates me, especially once you throw in how much influence Orphen most likely had on their bond. I think that often fans put a huge amount of stress on the relationship between Orphen and Childman, making the bond between Childman and Hartia seem as though it basically just came about because Orphen wasn't there to full Hartia's shoes instead. Hell, I believe this is occasionally even applied a little in canon, although never directly from the person it matters the most – Childman.

And so, this little fic was inspired. It focuses mainly on Childman and Hartia, but there is a huge amount of Orphen throughout it as well. I actually want to take one of the scenes mentioned in this fic and turn it into an actual story on its own, but who knows if the muses will bite.

_Summary_: Childman, Hartia and an albatross called Krylancelo (Orphen).

**Of Albatrosses.**

Childman found Hartia where he always did, in the furthest corner of the library. Few ventured so deeply into the poorly lit areas of the ancient room where books that were considered foolish were stored more out of an egotistical desire to own and encompass everything than because they have any true value. Sometimes, the younger students found there way here, sneaking behind the towering bookshelves and tiptoeing quietly in the hope that no one would see their childish, inappropriate behavior. Real mages only read real books, after all, and to be caught with a silly children's book could only bring shame and humiliation upon the poor soul who was discovered with one in hand.

Hartia had never cared about that kind of thing, Childman thought with a fond smile as he stood a distance away, watching as his apprentice quietly flickered through an old version of his favorite comic book. While other young students had started carrying around heavy magical books and researching potions the moment they entered the academy, Hartia had instead started up his comic book collection, wide eyes waiting in anticipation for the next volume to arrive. He'd been teased for it, naturally, but the younger version of Hartia had scrunched up his face and shook his fists before bursting into some strange argument about how everyone should read 'The Black Tiger' because it would make them better people. The older that Hartia became the more reserved and quiet his thoughts became on the matter, but even as youth gave way to his teenage years, Hartia never hid from others his supposedly childish obsession.

If others had issues with it, then that was their problem.

Krylancelo hadn't been of quite the same opinion. He'd found the comics embarrassing, often begging his best friend to find something – anything – else to read. And, if Hartia was to insist on the silly, silly comics with their ridiculous characters, couldn't he at least have the decency to hide them away and not read them in front of everyone?

The memories of the younger, more innocent versions of Krylancelo and Hartia were so strong that it was almost as though Childman was sharing the room with them. Angry little voices that shouted nonsensically, empty threats followed by empty fists. Those memories were always everywhere Hartia went, as his apprentice seemed to cling to them with such desperation that they would sometimes haunt anyone that came into contact with him.

Those memories were always especially strong here.

Krylancelo had hated Hartia's books and the teasing that they both got as a result, and he had argued with his friend numerous times. However, the only way Hartia had ever been able to reach the comics in the first place was when he was standing on a helpful Krylancelo's shoulders, small hands stretching as high as possible as his friend wobbled beneath him.

And Krylancelo would moan and groan, but he would never say no. Childman's smile turned nostalgic as he recalled the time that Hartia had fallen suddenly ill during his third year at the school, struck down by a mysterious illness that took seven students with it before a cure was found. Krylancelo had been frantic, and all measures to keep the boy away from his friend had proven futile. The disease itself had not been contagious, but the damaging, caustic effect it had on its victims was not something a child should ever have to witness. It was something that, even as an adult, Childman had found very difficult to deal with, especially with a student like Hartia who had always shone in such brilliant shades of red and enthusiasm. To see such a child so withered and diluted of life had been almost destructive in itself, and they had all made the greatest efforts to keep the healthy students from having to deal themselves with the horrors that their infected classmates were struggling with.

They had been successful with protecting that youthful innocence for the most part. Childman had naively thought back then that they'd managed to come up with enough spells and charms to keep even Krylancelo from slipping in, but they'd obviously underestimated the strength of their friendship. One afternoon when Childman had come in to check on the ailing child, he had found Krylancelo sitting beside Hartia's bed, reading aloud the latest volume of 'The Black Tiger' even as Hartia sunk deeper into unconsciousness. Krylancelo had simply glared at Childman, daring him to even try and force him to leave, but Childman hadn't said a word.

And so, Krylancelo returned every day for weeks and weeks, bringing in and reading each new volume as they arrived. Childman never figured out how Krylancelo managed to reach the books on his own, in the end putting it down simply to the willpower of a young child who was determined to help his friend in the only way he could think how. It had helped, Childman liked to think, as he doubted that Hartia's own strength alone had been enough to save him from an illness that had killed those who had not been as badly affected as the redhead. Once Hartia had been given the special potion and the slow recovery process completed, the pair had returned to their arguments and quarrels, although neither of them were quite the same. Hartia fell into moments where he was almost solemn, and Krylancelo had to deal with confronting mortality for the first time.

When Krylancelo had left after the disastrous turn that Azalie had taken, Hartia had been devastated. Not, naturally, in the same, emotional manner in which Krylancelo had left in, or in the grimly determined way Childman himself had managed to deal with the subject. Hartia had simply … faded, becoming a mere echo that vaguely remembered vibrancy.

"You can sit down if you like, I won't mind." Hartia looked up from his book then, a small, welcoming smile on his face. "Unless you were wanting me to do something –" As Hartia rose, Childman motioned for him to sit down, before taking a seat himself across from Hartia.

"I was merely attempting to escape from the demands of others for a while, and I know that this area of the library is usually very quiet."

"If you wish to be alone-"

"I wish no such thing, although I hope I'm not disturbing you." With Childman's response Hartia glanced back down wryly at his comic, before shaking his head and pushing the book away. It was moments like this that Childman had once found frustrating, ones where Hartia chose to not think for himself and to instead instantly turn simple conversation into an order. Hartia had done it the moment that Childman had arrived, offering to leave even though Childman had never meant to imply such a thing, and now Hartia was forsaking his own quiet moment because Childman apparently required it.

When Krylancelo had left, he'd shattered every ounce of confidence that Hartia had ever had, leaving behind a young child who had been determined to please everyone in the desperate hope that he would not cause them to abandon him in the same manner Krylancelo had done. Childman doubted that Krylancelo truly knew the effect his departure had had on his best friend, and occasionally Childman wondered if perhaps Krylancelo might have stayed had he known how long it would take Hartia to recover.

But that was all in the past, and all that mattered now that was Hartia had recovered, and that he had become a stronger person because of it. Childman hadn't noticed immediately when Hartia's desire to please everyone became superficial, and that while he nodded and bowed obediently, Hartia had a habit of doing exactly as he pleased when the moment called for it. That didn't mean that Hartia was generally disobedient or that he didn't feel contrite or guilty whenever he went against one of his superiors, and more that Hartia had developed his own opinion of what he thought was right and wrong, and while he would follow orders to a tee that he felt were motivated by the right things, he would secretly rebel if he thought that the orders he were given were wrong.

And that rebellion now extended to him, Childman thought with a wry grin. On one hand, it was frustrating to have his apprentice go against his direct orders and converse with Krylancelo, yet on the other hand it was a reflection of just how much Hartia had grown over these past few years. It was difficult not to wonder if Hartia would have been a different person if Krylancelo had not left.

"What are you thinking of, Master?" Hartia finally asked quietly, concern playing lightly across his features. Childman smiled reassuringly at his apprentice's worry.

"I was just reflecting on how different things might have been if Krylancelo had stayed." They rarely ever discussed Krylancelo in anything more definite than sporadic sentences, and so it was interesting to see Hartia's reaction. Pain clouded his face just briefly, even as his eyes lit up in contradiction. Interesting.

"Things would be very different, I suppose," Hartia replied, hesitating as though in thought before continuing, although Childman knew that Hartia must have spent hours speculating on exactly this topic. "He would be your apprentice, of course, and I am sure that between the two of you the elders would have had their hands full." Hartia smiled fondly, but there was sadness there as well. "I suppose I would be with one of the other master's, perhaps even Flameheart." Hartia twisted his face into one of disgust. "It would have certainly have been …interesting."

"You believe I would have taken Krylancelo as my apprentice?" He had listened impassively to Hartia, hiding his surprise. Even now his question was said in an even tone, belying none of his thoughts.

"Everyone knew that you were planning on choosing Krylancelo," Hartia replied without a hint of bitterness. "You always take the best student, and there was no-one more powerful at that time than Krylancelo." Hartia misread the emotion that flickered briefly across Childman's face. "I've never had any problem with that, Master," he hastily added. "It was never much of a secret that I was your second choice, and that if he hadn't have … left … then Krylancelo would have become your apprentice."

"You are right in a sense," Childman said slowly, carefully picking his words as he studied his apprentice. "Krylancelo was the most powerful mage from your year, and I do have a habit of picking the best and brightest students as my apprentices." Hartia smiled slightly at the confirmation. "But while Krylancelo may have been the most powerful, that did not necessarily make him the best."

Hartia blinked a couple of times in confusion, before speaking up hesitantly.

"I, I do not understand, Master."

"There is much more to being a mage than the power one possesses," he replied quietly, a warm smile working its way onto his lips. "Strength is measured in many ways, and while Krylancelo has it in abundance, it is only in specific areas. A powerful mage? Most certainly. A talented leader? He's shown that of late with that little band of his. But while he possesses all the power in the world, he uses it for selfish reasons and without thought for the consequences. While he is a fine leader, he is a leader only of followers." He paused, intelligent eyes holding confused ones. "The greatest mages, Hartia, are those that are level headed and inspire enough confidence in others that they can lead even leaders. Krylancelo cannot do that. He has too much pride and not enough trust; he would abandon others to follow what his heart demands without thought for those he leaves behind." Hartia flinched just slightly at that, and Childman instantly regretted his choice of words, tilting his head apologetically before continuing. "Krylancelo does not have the ability to know which battles need to be fought, nor does he realise how direct confrontation is not necessarily the only means of attack. He has much he still needs to learn, and much of that he will never now have the opportunity to. Krylancelo's strengths are also what limit him, and while he most certainly had great potential when he was a student here, there was at least one other student who had far more." His smile took on an almost paternal edge. "You should know by now, Hartia, that I never accept second best, regardless of the circumstances involved."

Hartia's eyes had grown wider and wider as Childman continued on, even as his face remained impressively emotionless. These were words that had needed to be said a long time ago, Childman now realized, although he doubted that Hartia would hold their belatedness against him.

"If I did not know how much you hate lies, I would suspect that you were just trying to make me feel better," Hartia finally said, his voice a mixture of amusement and disbelief. He shook his head self-consciously before continuing. "I don't think I share your opinion, but … thank you." The tiny smile that followed his words was genuine, and it reminded Childman of how rare it was for Hartia to smile like that, with no sadness or deliberateness tainting it.

"I believe that, in time, you will come around to my way of thinking," Childman said with a smile as he stood up, resting a hand briefly on Hartia's shoulder. "I know that I am personally very thankful that Krylancelo did not ask you to accompany him when he left, for this place would certainly have not been the same without your presence." He turned to leave then, and it was not until he had almost reached the end of the corridor of bookshelves that Hartia spoke up, his quiet voice drifting through the musky air.

"He did."

With his back still turned, Hartia was unable to see the resulting smile his words brought, although Childman liked to think that Hartia knew it was there, all the same.

Hartia hadn't merely been the right choice, he'd been the only one that Childman had ever considered making.


End file.
